


“I may be allergic to you.”

by ICanDoThisAllDayy



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Confessions, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet, Fluff, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Oblivious Sherlock Holmes, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICanDoThisAllDayy/pseuds/ICanDoThisAllDayy
Summary: This was another prompt given by @chestertonisabitch on Tumblr! :) Thank you loveee xoxoPrompt: “Sherlock is convinced he’s allergic to John since he can’t breathe when John’s around.”





	“I may be allergic to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this because this is so innocent ahhh I love oblivious yet at the same time blunt Sherlock and John :D <3

The first time it happened was when John stepped a little too close to him while examining a possible piece of evidence together for a case. 

Sherlock was seated on a chair, going through the pages of a book back and forth, in hopes for a clue, when John appeared behind him, and took two steps further ahead, his nose now unreasonably close to Sherlock’s ear. Sherlock took a deep breath, inhaling  _John’s_  scent. 

Suddenly, he couldn’t quite exhale it back. He remained frozen, the information suddenly extremely vital for processing that his body forgot to do anything else.

It wasn’t until John’s concerned voice called his name out that Sherlock shuddered and let some air out of his body. He quickly excused himself to think of a hypothesis for this situation.

Sherlock had come up with a hypothesis: “ **An overload of sensory experiences lead to the momentary pause in a person’s respiratory system** ”  _(Spoiler alert: He was wrong.)_

The second time, they were in their flat on a Sunday morning. Sherlock was already up and working on an experiment, while John slept in a bit more after a hectic week. The consulting detective heard the army doctor making his way down and was prepared to greet him a good day. 

What he was not prepared, however, was the look on John as he entered the kitchen. Ruffled hair, eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep, and a soft “Good morning Sherlock”. 

Sherlock’s breathing automatically hitched, his eyes fluttered at least 10 times in a mere span of 5 seconds. When John didn’t get a response from him, he walked over and shook Sherlock, “Are you alright? You’ve put too much acid on your microscope slide.” 

Sherlock then glanced down, his hand still holding the dropper, continuously squeezing the content out, against his free will. “Uh... Fine, I’m fine. This was intended. Now, if you’ll excuse me, John, I have to abandon this experiment effectively at once.” He then rushed to his room and didn’t leave until he gathered sufficient data.

Before it could happen the third time, he went up to John’s room that very night. John had just settled in bed when Sherlock knocked on his door. 

“You’re not one for pretentious manners, just come in. It better not be something miniature though, I for one value my sleep unlike you,” said the voice from within. Sherlock entered as he was told and stood at the foot of John’s bed.

“John, you’re a general practitioner.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. What is it now? Out with it. I am very sleepy and have a long day at the clinic tomorrow.”

“I think I am allergic.”

“Oh. Oh, alright. To what?”

“I may be allergic to you.”

John let out a hearty laugh, but then stopped abruptly seeing Sherlock’s innocent and frankly confused look. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Sherlock nodded. “Upon research, I discovered that shortness of breath and tightening of the chest are both indications of allergies. I have experienced both of these symptoms twice in a matter of the last 4 days within your presence.”

John ran a hand over his face and got up from his bed, “Jesus. Sherlock, unless we talk metaphorically, it is not possible for one human to be allergic to another.”

“Oh? Is that so? Then why is this happening? You’re a GP, which is why I came to request for your assistance.”

John walked closer towards him, “If I didn’t know the great Sherlock Holmes any better, I’d say these are signs of attraction to somebo-”  _Oh wait._

Sherlock’s eyes widened at this assumption, and the two men stared at each other as if the ground beneath them just tore wide apart. John wished the very ground would swallow him whole. “Sherlock, I’m too tired. Let’s just forget I ever made that assumption about you and me. We’ll talk tomorrow morning. Maybe run a few tests on you to see if you have any allergies for real.”

Sherlock, on the other hand, stopped paying attention to him after the word “too”. He was wondering if the statement had any truth to it. 

And it held only the truth, nothing else. “You’re right, John.”

“Yeah, good night. I’ll catch you tomorrow.” John hurriedly turned his back toward the taller man and was about to plop down on his bed out of embarrassment when Sherlock tugged his sleeve, making him stop in his track.

“I mean, you are right about the attraction. I am positive, in fact, positively attracted to you.”

John turned around to look at him, “Sherlock...”

“And after further consideration, you are too. Attracted to me. You are, as the Internet says, “flushed and blushed” every time I am around you”. He takes a step closer to his army doctor.

John blushed, at a lack of words. He let out a sigh, “Expect you to confess for me too. Yes, I am, you madman. I am a little more than just attracted to you. Surprised it took you this long.”

Sherlock’s face was reddening with shy happiness and was contentedly about to resign back to his own room, happy with this new data when John suggested something: “If you’d like, you can sleep here with me. Nothing like  _that_ , just, normal. We’ll see what to do with -” a flick of his hand between the two bodies “- this, tomorrow morning”

The detective blushed a deep crimson red, “I’d love that”.

And so they woke up the next morning with their limbs entangled and hearts full of hope and promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave kudos, comments and criticism! :D  
> Love hearing back from all, in any form possible xo  
> Stay happy, fandom. I love you all <3 - Rips


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